First Edition
by Jayta
Summary: Jack and Irina's first meeting. What was the first chapter in their story?


First Edition

_Jack stood out on his balcony with a whiskey in one hand and the heavy weight of a memory in the other.  As he looked out at the city skyline, Jack tried to push the memories of the past deep down, where they had been hidden for so long.  Irina's return had wreaked havoc on his life.  But now he once again, had control.  Never again would he be that fool._

_It had been a long day.  Irina was right again.  She was still his wife, technically.  He drank the last swig of whiskey before tossing the glass over his balcony.  As Jack waited for the sound of the tinkling of glass that would never come, he lifted the object that he clutched in his other hand.  A book.  Anna Karenina.  It made his stomach lurch to look at it.  As he walked into his living room, Jack tossed the bane of his existence on to the coffee table and stumbled into another night of darkness._

~~~

She waited in the bookstore for hours.  It wasn't hard.  She loved books.  She didn't understand how Americans could be so blessed with so many freedoms and not see it.  They just wasted it on frivolities, so much access, to so many different thoughts.  Obviously they were ungrateful wretches, who coveted and heralded their past, but yet never took the time to read them.  They also had books that other countries coveted.  First editions of books that were first written in another country, brought over by immigrants and the like.

As she fingered the books, the rough, ragged edges of the worn binds and the etchings of the engraved words on the spine, Irina envied the Americans who had such access to so many books.  She let herself indulge in one of her favorite past times.  As she pulled out a third edition of Nicolo Machiavelli's _The Prince_,Irina smiled fondly. It had been one of the first non-Russian books she had read. Her fingers ran over the worn book.  It was in excellent condition for its age.

Irina found a little nook in the bookstore to consume her exquisite find.  Of course she'd never be able to afford it.  The KGB didn't believe in excess.  Irina had been lucky enough to chosen for such a mission.  It was an honor she would not squander.  But there were weak moments, like when she stood in a bookstore such as this.  It was a little out-of-the-way shop in the middle of nowhere, but Irina always had an eye for places such as these.  If there were a little bookstore nestled in some small suburb of any town or city, Irina would know about it.

Then suddenly there was a tinkling from the store's front entrance.  Irina looked up from her little corner and spotted the new patron.  She had picked out a spot in the store where no one could possibly see her, but she could see everyone.  It was habit.

The new patron was a man; his hair was cut short, clean-shaven, and he wore a button-up shirt and khaki dress pants.  Irina's gaze narrowed and she smiled triumphantly.  Jack Bristow.

She had pondered, thought, schemed for days, trying to find a way to meet Mr. Bristow 'accidentally'.  As planned, Jack entered the charming store without aforethought.  But Irina, herself, had 'bumped' into her target's girlfriend outside her apartment.  With ease, Irina struck up a conversation with Sara about books.  It so happened that the blue-eyed, blonde-haired CIA agent also enjoyed intelligent literature.  And luckily for Irina she happened to have found this 'wonderful bookstore' that Sara would probably love.  Though she hadn't expected to see him this early in the afternoon, Irina found herself intrigued by this man whom her superiors handpicked her for.

~~~

He really was at a loss, at what to buy Sara.  It was her birthday and as astute as Jack was, he was never that good at buying presents for girls.  He never paid close enough attention to them to know what they liked.  Sometimes he wished they'd just tell him what they wanted.  Not that Jack ever really dated that much.  He was too busy focusing on his job at the CIA.  

Being recruited out of high school was one of the biggest thrills of his life.  And with that honor, came major expectations to live up to.  Jack lived, ate and breathed the CIA.  His first two years at the Agency was overwhelming, but exciting.  Jack had wanted to become a spy for as long as he could remember.  Although life at the CIA was not exactly as he had imagined, it was a career that challenged him at every turn.  

After pursuing a heavy workload; taking classes in Physics, Engineering, and Linguistics, Jack had managed to get his Doctorate in LAS over the course of five years, all the while taking field ops when possible.  His superiors were impressed with the progress he was making and was well on his way to becoming one of the CIA's best assets in terms of game strategy and analysis.  Even so, to buy a strategic gift wasn't something Jack had yet mastered.

Sarah was someone he could talk to.  They met while working together at the CIA.  She was in technical operations and he was waiting for one of her inventions for a mission he was going on.  Before he knew it, they were fast friends and close confidents.

They had been dating for three months now.  It was a decision they made after they had been friends for more than a couple of years.  The relationship was comfortable and each understood the time consuming nature of their work at Langley. Of course it didn't sound like a romantic discourse, but neither Sara nor Jack had time for romance of that nature.  Each was trying to climb the ranks of the CIA. 

They shared their time together and could speak frankly about their jobs, rather than having to explain to a civilian about the secretive nature of their work and how it would take them away from their girlfriend, or boyfriend for days or weeks.  Yes, Sara and Jack's arrangement worked out great, or so he thought.

"Uh, yes, do you happen to have a copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_?" Jack asked the older man standing behind the counter.  As Jack observed the man's demure behavior and his disgruntled face at the question, he surmised that the older man owned the small quaint bookstore.  Jack took a moment to survey the dusty shop, with its walls upon walls of books.  Most were old and leather bound; it would have taken years for the owner to accumulate the massive collection.

"Yes, of course!" the owner grumbled.  "Is there a specific edition you would like to look at?"

Jack frowned.  He never even thought about what edition.  After a moment Jack turned to the older man and smiled.  "Why don't you bring me the ones you have and I'll pick from them."

The older man rolled his eyes and shuffled out from behind the counter mumbling to himself.  "Of course he would say that…these young people…don't know a _first_ edition from a _third_…."

Jack was pleased with himself that he had managed to remember Sara mentioning this bookstore offhandedly.  While he waited, Jack wandered away from the counter and into an aisle way of bookshelves.  His hand fingered the delicate spines of books varying from Shakespeare to Tennyson.  Jack wondered how anyone would wade through all of these books.  He loved to read, but that would take time; time, which was better spent on such things like figuring out solutions to upcoming operations, and coming up with new game strategies.

"_Excuse me_?" a low rich alto voice interrupted Jack's thoughts.  

"Hmmm?" Jack lifted his gaze away from a second edition manuscript of Shakespeare's _Much Ado About Nothing _he picked up from one of the shelves. He turned around and found himself staring into a pair of dark brown eyes, which sparkled, even under the rather dim lights of the store.  Jack felt his heart skip a beat.  Who was she?

Jack studied the woman, who stood confidently in front of him.  She stood about six foot and she had a petite build, though he knew she was strong from the muscle tone in her arms, which were folded across her chest, clutching a couple of books.  Her dark chestnut brown hair was tied loosely into a knot and a few stray tendrils hung gingerly against her strikingly beautiful face.  She had high cheekbones and rosy lips that were parted ever so slightly.

"I just…" she paused a moment, blushing, a slight smile curling the corners of her lips.  She cleared her throat.  "I…_I just wanted to get by_."

The beauty before him motioned with her head to the narrow aisle, which they were standing in.  Jack looked over his shoulder and then around him and shook his head, feeling the blood rush to his face.  "Oh," he exclaimed, quite embarrassed.  "_I'm sorry_."  Jack swallowed, and turned to his side, allowing about a foot of space for her to pass through.

The woman smiled and also turned to her side, slowly making her way past him.  She put her one hand up in front of her so that it buffeted her against his body.  The slight graze of her long slender hands sent a shiver down his spine; although he tensed his body enough so that she wouldn't realize what effect she was having on him.  When she had squeezed past him, the woman turned around, backing away from him and waved.  "Thanks," she smiled, as she gracefully made her way towards a winding staircase, which led to another floor of books.

All Jack could do to keep his cool was nod ever so slightly, and tell himself to keep his mouth shut.  He knew that if he had said anything to that mystery woman, he was sure to put his foot in his mouth.  When she had disappeared onto the second floor, Jack realized that he was holding his breath.  He let out a deep breath and hit his hand on his forehead.  "Smooth Bristow," he chided himself.

"Young man?"

Jack raised his head and saw that the older man had returned with a stack of four books.  Sara's present.  He had almost forgotten why he had come to this out-of-the-way bookstore.  Jack cleared his throat and smiled.  "Yes, coming," he replied, unsettled by his encounter with the intriguing woman.

As he leaned against the counter, peering at each one of the novels before him.  One edition was in mint condition, the spine was intact and the cover was well kept.  As he flipped through the pages of the novel, Jack searched for any markings that could have been made.  There were none.

With each edition, Jack went through the same ritual.  Each novel he picked up becoming more worn and tattered, but each having its unique qualities.  One had an inscription by the author; the other was a first print off the American presses.  Jack was at a loss to which one he should pick.

"_This one_," said the mystery woman, tapping the cover of the middle edition of the novel.  "You should pick this one."

Jack turned and faced the woman he had just met.  He was impressed at how quietly she had come up from behind him.  Jack was usually never caught off guard and she had done it twice already.  She didn't even look at him.  She was quite focused on the choice of book at hand.  "Why?" he asked curiously.

Her dark eyes peered up at him and she tilted her head.  "It's the best of the selection at hand.  It is a first edition and it has the author's quill penned inscription," she stated matter-of-factly.  "I personally would love it if someone gave me a book like that."

"Oh, really?"  Jack raised his eyebrow dubiously.  "Now how do I know I can trust your _opinion?_  I hardly even know you."

The woman blushed and bit her lip.  It seemed that she just realized how forward she was being. "I'm sorry," she said, mortified.  "I didn't mean to intrude.  By all means, choose, whichever book you'd like.  I just thought you looked like you needed an second opinion."

Jack laughed.  "And why is that?" he challenged playfully, standing up and handing the older man the edition she had selected for him and his credit card.  He was going to choose that one anyway.

The mystery woman stood up and straightened her posture, pulling herself to her full height.  "If you don't mind me saying, you have no clue when it comes to understanding books and their value," she said offhandedly, placing a couple of books she had tucked away in the crook of her arm.

Jack raised his eyebrows amused.  "Now what makes you say that?"

She looked at him hesitantly, as if debating whether she should say anything.  Then taking a deep breath and she sighed.  "You came into a bookstore, unsure of what you were looking for.  And then when you actually decided what book you'd actually like to buy, you took only a few minutes to look at each of them before looking like you actually had a _hard_ choice to make."

Jack was taken aback at her assessment of the situation.  She was quite knowledgeable about books, and apparently so.  The woman was also quite observant.  He smiled a moment at the thought that she had been watching him.  Jack then recovered and turned his attention back to the woman who was quite forward.  "And what makes you such an expert _in your opinion_?" Jack asked intently.

She smiled and, her long dark lashes hiding her equally dark eyes.  "I'm former professor of literature at UCLA," she said, smiling at the owner of the bookstore as she handed him her items.

Jack leaned over the counter to sign the slip of paper authorizing his purchase.  "And what are you doing in McLean, so far from the Golden State?" Jack asked, sliding the brown paper bag holding his newly acquired purchase off the counter.

"I became tired of it being…so sunny," she replied demurely.  "Is that all right with you?"

Jack shrugged.  He didn't want to come off so inquisitive and curious.  "It's actually none of my business," he said casually.

She raised her eyebrows briefly in amusement.  A knowing look flashed in her eyes and then as quickly as it appeared, her eyes clouded again and she nodded.  "Right," she said quickly and smiled.

The older man, had rung in her purchases and now handed her, her bag of books.  She slid her credit card across the counter and waited for him to slide it through the VISA machine.  When she had signed the flimsy slip of paper, Jack watched her turn and head towards the glass door.  "Well," she said, looking over her shoulder.  "It was nice meeting you."  The tinkling of the chimes signaled the exit of the mysterious woman out of his life.

Jack's first impulse was to run after her and find out her name, but something inside of him held him back.  There was no reason for him to chase after her.  Was there?

~~~

Irina counted the minutes, as she slowly made her way down the street to a coffee shop just around the corner.  As the waitress took her order of coffee black, Irina couldn't help but feel nervous about her first encounter with the man she would become involved with.  He was more reserved than she would have imagined, but nonetheless, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary that she hadn't anticipated.

As she glanced at her watch, she began to count down.  _3 – 2 – 1_…

Jack came jogging around the corner of the street.  She sat in the chair facing the street, so she could see him.  Her heart skipped a beat when she could see him just over the rim off her coffee cup.  She had left her credit card at the store and the gentleman he was, Irina knew Jack would go out of his way to find her.  She could see it in his eyes.  Irina Derevko had sparked Jack Bristow's interest, just as her superiors had expected.  But she felt a brief moment of triumph when she knew her plan had worked.

Irina leaned over her newly acquired works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning and hidden in the brown paper bag, also, extravagant as it may have been, Machiavelli's _The Prince_.  She could hear his slowing footsteps as he had spotted her down the block sitting outside the quaint café.  "Miss?" Jack called, as his breathing was slightly labored.  He _had_ run down the block.

Irina swallowed, taking a moment to calm herself before lifting her eyes to meet his.  They were a dark brown.  His picture hadn't done him justice when she stood face to face with him.  "Yes?" she said, trying to sound as surprised as possible.

Jack's eyes flickered with indecision.  He didn't want to come off like he was a stalker.  "You forgot your credit card in there," he explained, holding her credit card in his hand.

She let her jaw drop and reached out and accepted the welcomed card.  Irina became flustered and feigned complete distress.  "I can't believe I forgot it in there.  I'm never lose things…"  She stopped her attempt at endearing rambling and then looked up at Jack.  "Thank you."

Jack nodded and then stood there looking at her for a second.  She locked eyes with him and they just stared intently at each other for a few minutes.  Irina never met a man like him before.  He wasn't like most men, she could tell that right away.  "Would you like to have a seat?" she finally asked, breaking her gaze from his.

Jack smiled and shook his head.  He glanced at his watch.  "I can't.  I have to be getting back."

Irina nodded, taking an unassuming sip of her coffee.  "Well it was nice to meet you…?"

"Jack.  Jack Bristow."

Irina smiled and extended her hand.  "Well it's nice to meet you Mr. Bristow."

Jack extended his arm out and grasped her hand in his.  The feel of his warm strong hands, enveloped her thin slender fingers.  "Same here, Ms. Devin."

Irina looked up attentively and smiled.  "You may call me Laura."  Her hand lingered in his.  "And you can call me Jack," he countered.

Irina was the first to pull her hand from the gentle yet firm handshake.  Her heart beat a little faster than usual, something that hadn't happened since she was 13 and she liked one of the boys across the street.  "Well, I guess you should be going then?" Irina reminded him.  He nodded distractedly.  She had him right where she wanted him.

~~~

It had been weeks since his encounter with Laura and Jack still couldn't get his mind off of the beautiful stranger he had run into in the bookstore.  Jack had gone back several times, but she was never there.  It was as if she had disappeared off the face of the earth.

"Jack, your mind has been off somewhere else lately," Sara sighed as she placed two empty plates on the dining room table.  "It's like you're off in some distant land and you just come to visit.  I mean, you don't even seem to be as focused on your work these days."

Jack frowned.  "I'm sorry," he apologized, kissing Sara on the lips.  "I just…"

"You just what?"

Jack closed his eyes and shook his head.  He didn't want to lie to her.  She deserved to know what he was thinking.  '_And what good is that going to accomplish?'_ a voice chided.  _'You don't even know anything about this other woman.'_

As he sat down on one of the dining room chairs, he opened his mouth to tell Sara everything, but found that the words wouldn't come out.  Instead he heard himself reassure her.  "I'm just tired that's all."

Sarah looked doubtful.  She began to massage Jack's neck.  "Jack, is this _really_ working out for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she sighed, stopping the relaxing pressure she had begun to use on him.  "Are you happy like this?"  Sara walked around in front of him.  "I know we started this because we thought it was the best solution to the loneliness situation but…"

Jack wrapped his arms around her waist.  "Are you trying to say that I'm not attentive enough?" he coaxed.

Sara began to shake her head no, when she suddenly stopped and looked at him seriously.  "I found someone else Jack."

The revelation shocked Jack.  He couldn't believe what she was saying.  "What do you mean you found someone else?" he exclaimed angrily.  

"I just met him last week.  He really swept me off my feet…"  Sara looked sorrowfully at him.  "I'm sorry Jack.  I never meant to hurt you, but I didn't think you were really invested in this relationship.  I mean were you really _in love_ with me?"

The question startled him for a moment.  He couldn't say 'yes' truthfully.  Jack shook his head.  He couldn't believe this was happening.  His hands slipped down from Sara's waist and he let them fall onto his lap.

"I know I went along with this pretending like it was fine with me.  I tried to take the same logical approach as you did, but when David sent me a dozen roses and told me he thought I was beautiful, I couldn't lie to myself anymore."  She kneeled in front of Jack.  "I want _that_ _romance_ Jack and you just can't give it to me."

He remained silent as he watched her grab her coat and purse and close the door behind her.  Jack picked up the gift bag that he had placed strategically under the table.  He dropped it carelessly on the black sheen of the tabletop.  "I guess I won't be needing this anymore…"

~~~

When Irina walked into Lastry's Bookshop, she entered with the knowledge that Jack had been doing his best to track her down.  It took every trick in the book to keep his CIA 'friends' from finding her and ruining her plans for this moment.  She knew Sara would break up with Jack.  It had been all planned.

"Yes, I would like to return this," Jack told the owner of the store.

"No returns sir," the older man replied curtly, pointing to the sign on his register.

Irina heard Jack sigh irritably.  "You know, you'd probably get better business if you were a little more polite to your customers," Jack retorted.

"You should take a little of your own advice _Mr. Bristow_," Irina smirked, walking up to the counter.  Jack turned around in surprise.  He opened his mouth to say something, but Irina interrupted him.  "Oh, right.  It's Jack.  Sorry about that."  She laughed, brushing her long brown hair over her shoulder.  She had gone out of her way to look especially stunning that day.  Jack wouldn't know what hit him.

"_Laura_?"

Irina smiled.  "Oh, good.  You remember my name.  Some guys I meet don't remember my name after the third date," she said sarcastically.  "So we're off to a good start."

From Jack's expression, his head was swimming, and it was a good thing.  Irina was definitely closing the deal.  She would have Mr. Bristow wrapped around her little pinkie.  His gaze narrowed in suspicion.  "I can't see how they could forget?" Jack replied smoothly.  He shifted his weight so his body leaned towards her.  "So are you asking me out on a date?"

Irina's eyes twinkled.  "I'm might like _classic_ literature, but that doesn't mean I can't ask a guy out," she laughed.  "I'm quite modern that way."  Suddenly her face became serious.  "Wait, why are you returning that book that you just bought?"

"I didn't return it," he deadpanned.

Irina rolled her eyes.  "Why did you _try_ to return it?  Break up with a girlfriend that I should be wary about?" she said cautiously.  Not that it was something Irina was worried about.

Jack became quiet for a moment.  Irina thought he was trying to think up a reasonable lie to get himself out of the question.  To his merit, he didn't.  "Yes," he answered quietly.

"Yes, your girlfriend just broke up with you?" Irina repeated slowly.

Jack shrugged.  "If you could call it that."

Irina glanced over at the older gentleman who was listening intently to their conversation.  "Do you want to go somewhere else?" she said, turning her back on the owner of the store.  "You might have been right about the service here."

~~~

Jack couldn't believe how lucky he was to bump into Laura again.  He didn't think he would see her again.  It was like a gift from God, if he really could believe in Him.  As he strolled down the quaint suburb with this stunning creature by his side, Jack couldn't understand how he could have managed to be so lucky.  It wasn't something that 'happened' to him.

She was intriguing and intelligent.  Not to mention again, stunning.  Her laughter was like wind caressing delicate chimes, which produced a melodious tune.

"Jack?"

He realized that he had fallen deep into thought and had been ignoring this vision that made him feel things he had only heard about, things that he would normally scoff at.  "Yes?  I'm sorry," he apologized quickly.  "I didn't mean to be rude."

Laura laughed and shook her head.  "That's fine.  You'll just have to buy me a cup of coffee to make up for it," she said casually, looping her arm through the crook of his arm.

Jack cleared his throat and smiled in agreement.  Even her amazing ease at being with him made Jack's heart race.  Everything about her was a catalyst of some sort of physical reaction, whether it was blood rushing to his face in embarrassment or his heart racing; Jack knew from the moment he saw her, that he was in love.

~~~

It was their first official anniversary; Irina's plan was on schedule.  They had been seeing each other for almost two months now.  'Laura' had put off the idea of dating until she was 'sure' that he was over his former girlfriend.  They had just begun dating a month ago, tonight.

The waiting had been more of a ploy than anything else.  Irina knew that in a real life situation, no intelligent woman would start dating a man who had just ended a relationship.  'Laura' would not be some desperate woman who was an 'arm-piece' for some man.  That one thing Irina made sure of.

As she lingered in front of the body length mirror, which stood in the corner of her bedroom, Irina couldn't help but admire herself in the mirror.  Her new red satin dress, which she happened to find in a charming little boutique downtown, clung elegantly against her slightly tanned body.  Its sweeping neckline plunged, so that a small amount of cleavage was revealed.  The straps were about an inch wide and widened down to the bodice of the dress, while its flowing skirt just grazed her ankles.  She wore a pair of red satin shoes, with inch-high heels, to give her a little more height, but not enough to tower over her date.

Ding-dong.

Jack was here.  Just saying his name made her smile.  She'd never met a man like him before.  He was so gentle, and kind.  His compassion astounded her.  Yet, there was still something about him that caused people to turn their heads when he entered a room.  He had an inner strength, which Irina had come to find attractive.

When she had been assigned this mission, it seemed like a straightforward assignment.  Meet Jack Bristow, get close to him and find out all the information she could on CIA missions, projects and plans.  It wasn't a problem.

Her case officer warned her in the beginning to compartmentalize.  He warned her against any signs of developing feelings for her target.  Irina knew what he was talking about, and it seemed so easy at the time to keep her distance, but the more time she spent with him, the more he wanted to know her.  It was then she found herself admitting small truths about herself to him.  Laura's description of her deceased 'mother' would bear a striking resemblance to her own.

But each time she felt herself falter, Irina would pull away from Jack, citing the need to work late, or she had a teacher's conference to go to.  Vladeev wasn't pleased with these little breaks Irina would take, but she lied to him and told him that it would pique Jack's interest even more, which it did.  By then, Irina was again focused on her assignment and her objective.  Her country needed her to derail the enemy's attempts at destroying her people.

In the reflection of the mirror, Irina smoothed a few stray hairs that had fell out of place before running her hands down the extravagant gown, she would never had worn if it hadn't been for the KGB.  They had made everything possible.  "Coming," Irina sang as she weaved her way down the hall and to the apartment door.  

As she opened the door to reveal Jack in a black tuxedo with a bouquet of red roses in his arms, Irina smiled and became 'Laura' once more.  "Jack," Irina gasped thoughtfully.  "_They're beautiful_."

"No, you are," he whispered.  She watched as his eyes ran down the length of her body and she felt herself blush.

Irina accepted his gift with delight.  Red roses were her favorite.   After she had slipped them into a vase, Jack came up behind her and slipped her loose crimson shawl around her shoulders.  His strong hands lingered on her shoulders and his warm breath tickled her as his lips left a soft butterfly kiss on the nape of his neck.  Irina leaned against Jack and allowed the moment to happen to her.  She took a deep breath after a few minutes, and smiled lazily as she turned around and wrapped her arms around Jack.  "Where are we going?"

Jack lowered his lips onto hers and kissed her slowly and deliberately.  When he had pulled away slightly, catching his breath.  "That's a surprise," Jack smirked.  "And I know how you _love_ surprises."

Irina raised her eyebrows playfully.  "Are you never going to let that go?" she laughed.  "I told you, I'm too inquisitive for my own good! "

Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head.  "Well, next time I try to take you anywhere, I'll be sure to hide the brochure better," he growled irritably.

Irina lifted her forearms until her hands were resting on the back of Jack's head and pulled his head down until her lips met his again.  Her body moved into his arms, which tightened around her.  Irina felt his lips wander down her neck and find their way back to her lips.  When they had to break for air, Irina heard Jack groan as he rested his forehead against hers.  "We'd better get going or we're going to be late."

Irina smiled inquisitively.  "So there's a time schedule?" she asked inquisitively.

Jack raised his head from hers and looked intensely into her eyes.  He said nothing for what seemed like the longest time, and then smiled.  "You'll see," he said subtly.

Irina smiled and let herself slowly be enticed out of her apartment into the unknown.  How many times will you actually be the one with the secret Jack?  Irina's hid the uneasiness in her heart, plastering a dazzling smile on her face as Jack looked back at her.

~~~

Jack looked across the candlelit table.  Laura took his breath away.  He never thought that she could look more beautiful than the day he met her, but tonight, her face glowed under the moonlight.  Jack had planned this night for two weeks.  He wanted it to be special.  _It was their first anniversary_.

As the waves gently rocked the small yacht he had borrowed from his friend Arvin, Jack slipped out of his seat and stood in front of Laura with his hand held out.  "Would you like to dance?"

Laura's dark eyes looked up at him from underneath her long lashes.  Her slender hand slid into his and he led her onto an empty area of the deck.  Jack lifted his left hand and pressed her hand in his, against his chest as he slid his other hand around her waist.  "Laura I've never felt like this about anyone," Jack admitted vulnerably.  "I don't think I ever will."

He had never imagined himself telling a woman so early in their relationship the things he was saying to Laura right now.  Jack knew that Laura could crush him in an instant if she didn't feel the same way.  And as he looked into those dark eyes, Jack knew she wouldn't.  He knew her too well and she felt exactly the same; though his heart couldn't stop pounding for fear he had read her wrong.

"Jack," she said breathlessly, as they swayed to the jazz overture sounding over the speakers.  "I don't know what to say."  Laura lowered her eyes and shook her head.  "You're the only man that's ever rendered me speechless you know?"

Jack felt the tension melt away and he laughed.  "That's a good thing, right?" Jack smiled, lifting her right hand to his lips and kissing it.

Laura nodded.  "Yes," she whispered.  "You're not what I _expected_."

Jack looked at her curiously and asked, "And what were you expecting?"  Laura seemed to be distracted and Jack lifted her head up until her eyes met his.  "What were you expecting?" Jack asked again.

Laura swallowed and smiled.  "I'm sorry.  It's just that this is so overwhelming."  She pulled away and lifted her arms and gestured to the boat, the full moon and night sky.  "You did all of this for our _first anniversary_!"  Laura turned around and walked over to the edge of the railing.  "I don't know if this is moving a little too fast…"  She was at a loss for words and a look of confusion and disbelief crossed her face.

Jack walked over to the railing and shook his head.  "For the month I've known you, you've changed my life.  And no matter, whether we slow down right now or not, I don't regret doing any of this for you," he replied.  Laura remained silent, looking out into the night sky.  Jack wasn't sure about what to do next, and then he remembered the gift.  "Come here," Jack said with a twinkle in his eye.

~~~

Irina frowned.  "What is it?" she asked, as Jack pulled her towards the table and sat her down again.  Irina wasn't sure what Jack had up his sleeves, but he seemed quite pleased with himself.

Jack disappeared into the cabin below for a moment.  Irina's heart was racing.  He had caught her off guard with the declarations he had made that night.  She had expected him to be wary and cautious entering a relationship, she knew she would have been, but Jack seemed to have this simplistic naiveté when it came to her.  What was that American saying?  _Love is blind_.

Irina bit her lip as she heard Jack bound up the stairs of the small yacht.  She kept her eyes forward and folded her hands in her lap.  Out of the corner of her eye, Irina could see some sort of gift behind his back.  "Here," he said, placing a neatly wrapped gift in front of her.

Irina's brow furrowed with curiosity.  "What's this Jack?" she chuckled.  "You already brought me roses and then dinner out on this yacht."  Irina picked up the heavy rectangular gift.  Irina frowned.  "It's really heavy," she stated.  It was a book, she could tell by the indentation at the ledge of the sides.  He was full of surprises.

"Open it," he said nonchalantly.

Irina frowned as she slowly and meticulously lifted the edges of the gift-wrap, where the adhesive clung to the floral paper.  She swallowed hard as her fingers slipped under the paper and felt the hard leather beneath her fingertips.  The detailed etchings on the cover pressed into her hand because of the weight of the book.  "Jack?" Irina whispered in amazement.  As she lifted the charcoal novel from underneath the tissue paper, which protected it, Irina looked at Jack in disbelief.  _Anna Karenina_.  As Irina turned the aged book in her hand, she fingered the spine of the book.  It was a first edition of _Tolstoy's Anna Karenina._

"How did you…?" Again Jack had found a way to make her speechless.  It was a generous gift.  She'd never had anyone give her such a beautiful thing.  "Where did you…?"  Irina continued to ask the beginnings of questions, but not finishing them.  She found herself flipping through its pages.  It was in Russian, text that was so familiar to her.  She began to read the text in a whisper.

Irina was in complete shock that this man whom she'd met only a month ago would go to the trouble of finding this amazing work of art.  She felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes.  Irina tried to blink them away.  It would have taken a large amount of his salary to pay for such a rare book.  She swallowed her tears and as she looked up, Jack was kneeling before her.  The incredible gift slipped out of her hands and took her by the hand.  "Laura Devin," Jack whispered, as his eyes gazed intently into hers.  She felt herself swallow hard.  "_I love you._"

Irina closed her eyes and let the words sink in.  Never had anyone said those words to her.  He was the first.  She felt his rugged hands caress her cheek.  'Laura' opened her eyes and looked upon the man who had just declared his love for her.  "_I love you too_."

Irina wrapped her arms around this man who seemed to trust her implicitly.  And that was just the beginning of the plan.  'Laura' would marry this man and make him her husband.  This would not be the first time she would lie and betray Jack; no, she would do it many more times.  

_Anna Karenina_ was the first of many first editions, which Jack would buy for 'Laura'.  


End file.
